For Lack Of A Better Person
by Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare
Summary: Santana and Dave find solace in one another. They help each other with their struggles, and ultimately, to achieve happiness. .:. Brittana and Kurtofsky, somewhat. Angsty. Fourshot, all drabbles. Rated T for some swearing.
1. Part 1 of 4

**A/N: Some drabbles. Not entirely sure where they came from; I just felt like writing them. C:**

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Whenever a new development occurred with Kurt or Brittany – namely Brittany, since Kurt now attends Dalton – they would meet up and discuss it. It wasn't so much as gossip as it was… sorting things out verbally. Solace found in telling secrets in confidence. Confidence in one another born from being so devastatingly similar.

They found each other one day and before they knew it, they were spilling secrets. Reluctantly, angrily, because they are both that way – defensive and fearful – but it helped. It worked. And in being so fragile for a moment, they gained an instant connection, something friendly and casual and _tangible, _something they could each grab onto in a sea of people who wouldn't understand.

Dave usually went first because he never had much to say. He barely saw Kurt any longer; only in town sometimes, or whenever he and Finn happened to have an after-school activity together and one of them needed a ride that day. He saw Kurt, but never wanted to talk to him much. He was too ashamed with himself even to apologize.

Santana usually wound up crying. She's a strong girl, a feisty one to be sure, but the same could be said for Dave in the male sense, and yet both of them are so tender underneath their hides. Whenever Santana confessed to something, she hated herself for being weak, and disliked the feeling of opening up, and because of that, Dave would be there to comfort her. He'd hold her and let her cry on him, because Brittany was still with Artie – might always be with Artie, since they're sweet together and Artie actually treats Brittany right (as opposed to how he treated Tina), and Artie plays along with Brittany's ditziness. They work well together, and it breaks Santana's heart.

"I don't want to talk to her much now," Santana sobs one afternoon at the park near the school. They're half-hidden by some trees and drowned out by screaming, laughing children, so it's safe to converse here. The Latino girl rubs her hands together, wringing them up and dabbing her eyes constantly, until her face is pink and her fingers are raw. Dave calms her hands by stilling them in his.

"I don't talk to Kurt at all, so I guess we're even," he responds meekly. "But you shouldn't beat yourself up about it, Santana. You're a bigger person than I am about this; at least Brittany is your friend, and you're nice to her when you aren't teasing her. I harassed Kurt because I knew it was the only way to get an excuse to be around him without it being suspicious. How screwed up am I?" he reminds sadly.

Santana turns and puts her arm around him. It's easy between them, after they discovered how similar they are. They've been friends ever since that weird, fateful day they told their secrets. Lesbian, gay; labels they cast aside, don't want, don't need, because high school in Lima is brutal like it is most everywhere else. Their peers would tear them apart.

"We'll survive, Dave. We're strong people. At least, I know I am. I can take this. I don't need her," she says, but her voice breaks on the word 'don't.' She bites her lip. "Besides, I've been thinking. Maybe we could pretend to date? Just to ward off suspicion, since I know some people think there's something going on with the way I've been avoiding Brittany some of the time."

"Huh. Finn actually suggested that we date, since he doesn't know that's I'm… y'know," he adds, and he shrugs his shoulders. He's been trying to get on better terms with Finn again, rekindle that bromance from the championship game week, and get on Finn's good side in order to get close enough to Kurt to at least muster up the audacity to _apologize._ But it'd be an awfully bold move to do that, and Dave isn't very bold. He's nowhere near as bold or brave as Santana, who confessed her love to the object of her affection. The fact that even she was as such must be a girl thing, and a friend thing. Dave wishes he had that sort of thing with Kurt, but he doesn't.

"Well, then it's settled: I can stick it to Brittany that I don't need her by acting as your date, and you can keep up the cover that you're straight while you find a way to get Kurt to talk to you. It works," she says, but she doesn't sound half as convinced as her words do. She sighs. "But it could be a disaster. Fake relationships never quite work out."

"That's not true; we could just… be really good friends. Openly. And people can make their own assumptions, and those assumptions can aid us, I guess," Dave mumbles gruffly, trying to think.

Santana nods her head slowly and tosses her hair over her shoulder. She draws her needs up to her chest, hugging her legs. "I don't know. I feel lost, and I hate it. Why can't things be simple?"

"Uh, because life sucks? I dunno. I just know that if things were simple, then the world would be led by a bunch of Finns, and as much as I like the guy, that would not be a good thing."

Santana laughs a little. "No, it wouldn't. The kid's definitely not the brightest pair of sunglasses in the shop, if you know what I mean."

"Still. We can get through this, Lopez. We're juniors. We only have one more year to suffer, and then the world is our oyster or whatever. We can get the Hell outta Dodge – and by that, I mean Lima – and we can be free to be who we really are in places where no one gives a rat's ass."

"I hope you're right," Santana murmurs, sighing again. "Because I want that. I want to leave, and bring Brittany with me, and be free to love her where there won't be judgmental stares everywhere I go. I could totally glare better than them right back, but still. I hate being labeled instantly. I hate stereotypes. I dish them out to hide how much I hate them."

Just like how Dave acted homophobic to hide how homosexual he actually is. It's a vicious cycle, and a dangerous mask to wear. It borderlines hypocrisy.

But at least they have each other to confide in about these matters. If they hadn't found each other as soon as they had, they might've gone either insane or became severely depressed. And neither of these things are pleasant by any means.


	2. Part 2 of 4

"Is this about Kurt? Or Santana? You're confusing me, dude," Finn frowns. "I mean, Santana's here, and…"

"Move aside, spazz. We have business here, so giddout."

"Huh? 'Giddout?' What's that?"

"I said, 'get out,' Finn! God," Santana remarks with a roll of her eyes. She shoos with him her hands and moves past him into the house. Dave says behind a little, trying to be more polite than Santana.

"What's her problem?" Finn frowns. "And what's this all about?"

"He's confused. What else is new?" Karofsky grumbles lowly to himself, but he hastily covers up the insult with clarification. "It's about Kurt _because _I talked to Santana about it, and she's here for support. Now, can I come in, too? It's raining out here, if you hadn't noticed," Dave barks back, just enough to forceful and not too much to the point where Finn would turn him away.

Finn shrugs. "All right, Dave. But only 'cause I'm hoping this means you'll finally apologize to him and maybe join Glee Club." He pauses and leans in as Dave steps inside. "You're dating her, right?" he whispers.

"More or less," Dave lies smoothly, and steps fully into the Hummel/Hudson home. Finn closes the door behind him.

"Kurt here yet?" Santana calls, and she's already in the kitchen, helping herself so some soda.

"Nah, but he should be soon. I'm kinda proud of you, though, Dave. You've been a lot better recently. No slushies, no insults. I would've thought anyone Santana got involved with would end badly, but I guess when you put two negatives together, you get a positive, just like in math. Am I right?" Finn muses, and it's honestly one of the most intelligent things Karofsky has ever heard the taller brunet say.

"Uh… right. Anyway, when Kurt gets here, we kinda want to talk to him alone. It's something… personal," Dave mutters. "Got it?" he adds a little darkly, if only to get his point across.

"Oh! Uh, sure, you two. I mean, whatever. I can't make any promises of him hearing you out, then. Santana being here might help, since he knows her better than you, but… Well. It's not like they're _friends,_" Finn reminds sadly.

"That's fine. I don't care. I just need to try," Dave implores.

"It's fine. Kurt'll listen if I tell him to. Besides, he and I might not've been pals or anything, but it's not like I've ever really done him _wrong,_" Santana remarks with a flippant run-through of her hands in her hair.

Finn shrugs, uncaring, and moves to leave. "Oh, here's Kurt. Perfect timing; now I can borrow his car and do something. Uh. See you guys later," he says, and Santana has the suspicion that Finn's sneaking off to be with Quinn, but she isn't entirely sure.

Kurt mutters a, "Oh, hey, Finn. Going somewhere?" as Finn walks past and gives a quick response.

"Yeah. Can I –? Hey, thanks! Oh, and there's some people from school who wanna talk to you. They're inside. Try not to freak, okay?"

"Why would I freak?" Kurt frowns right as he walks in the door. He spies Santana first, and he smiles minutely, but then he sees Dave and all of the emotions on his face fall.

"Karofsky! What on Earth are you doing here? _And _with Santana? Just what is going on?" Kurt huffs, flustered, fearful.

"Now, Kurt," Santana begins firmly, "Don't freak out on us. We're not here to do you harm or anything. We just… wanted to tell you something."

"Fancy, remember when you and your boyfriend gave me the whole, 'you're not alone' speech? Well. Uh. The thing is –"

"We wanted to say we were sorry, I guess," Santana cuts in, her arms folding across her chest. She sighs heavily, eyes flickering away. "Sorry that we made you think you were the only one. That's such a lie; you aren't the only one. You're just the only one who was open about it and didn't seem to _care_, since you were never truly popular to begin with. But Dave and me… we're scared shitless, Kurt. We don't want to be this way, not in high school. We could take on people to their faces, but behind our backs, we're powerless to what they say and do. And we're not strong like you."

This is honestly the gentlest thing Kurt has ever heard come from Santana's mouth, even if she's saying it in a frustrated tone. Kurt cautiously raises an eyebrow and steps closer to them, joining them in the family room as he drops his school bag.

"So… you're telling me… you're both gay? I mean, I suspected you, Santana, because of how close you and Brittany are, but –"

"Were," Santana corrects with a hint of despair. "We… _were_ close. I-I can't look Brittany in the eye anymore, not for a while. You've missed a lot, Kurt. No one really noticed or heard, but… I told Brittany that I love her. Because I do. Miss Holiday said that it doesn't matter who you're attracted to, only who you're in love with, as far as definitions go. I don't want a label. I don't want to be a 'lesbian.' I like to think of myself as just… someone who's in love during a time and at a place where she shouldn't be." And she's nearly crying, but she somehow manages to remain strong. She turns away, and Dave's arms are waiting for her.

Kurt gapes at her, startled, unsure what to think, but feeling extremely empathetic. "That's… romantic, Santana. I'm sorry, but at the same time… I'm amazed by you." His expression gives way to narrow-eyed mistrust, however, as soon as he looks over at the jock. "But what's _your_ excuse, Karofsky? Santana I understand, but _you…_"

"Dave's the same as I am!" Santana defends, spinning out from Dave's arms to look at Kurt with a hurt expression. "Don't you get it, Kurt? He's… he's in love with you, but he can't handle it. he doesn't know how to act. And he was never friends with you to begin with, which made it harder on him. He has it worse than I do," she tells him with her usual Lopez-fierceness, but it's dulled by the fresh tears welling in her eyes. She literally cannot contain her emotions. They're running haywire. There's too much tension in the room, so much that it's almost palpable.

Dave touches Santana's shoulder and murmurs, "It's okay, Santana. You don't need to stick up for me. I know that Kurt's right; there's no excuse for my behavior. But thank you for trying to justify it anyway." He shakes his head, and a cowl makes its way onto his face. He glares at the floor. "I hate it. I hate how I feel about you, Kurt. For a while, it made me disconnect from myself, lose myself. I didn't know who I was because I kept thinking about you instead. But after really meeting and getting to know Santana, I think I have things figured out. That's why we're here. We just… wanted somebody else to know, someone who couldn't gossip at McKinley and would understand."

Kurt nods numbly, his lip quivering minutely as he swallows hard. He stares at them both, and he's suddenly completely at a loss for what to say to them.

"I think it's time to go," Santana mumbles, and she dabs her mostly dry eyes to keep her makeup from getting too terribly messed up. "Come on, Dave. We said what we wanted to. Needed to. Whatever," she huffs, and makes her way to the door.

Dave nods once, ducks past Kurt, and follows after Santana.

"Wait –!" Kurt tries, and turns and reaches forward for one of their arms. He winds up catching Karofsky's. "Does this change anything?"

Santana glances back, and Dave keeps his eyes trained on a hardwood floor panel. "A few things, maybe. But not enough that Santana or I will ever come out at school. We can't; what we've said is proof enough."

The Latino girls nods. She grips Dave's other hand right as Kurt releases the taller boy's wrist. She says, "Don't worry about it, Kurt. Consider this off-the-record. You can go back to Dalton tomorrow, act like this never happened, and we'll do the same."

"But… that doesn't seem right. Someone else has to know; an adult, maybe –"

"Holly Holiday knows about me. But Dave…?" She shakes her head. "No. He isn't comfortable with it, and I don't blame him. It's different for guys. Us girls can weep and be emotional all we like, but guys…"

"We'd look like we have no backbone," Dave growls. "It's such a stupid double-standard."

Kurt swallows again, trying to hold back tears. Normally he would be nothing but rude to the boy in front of him, but how can he, when he isn't afraid any longer, when all he feels is pity?

"We're leaving for real, now. See you some other time, Kurt," Santana says softly, and then she tugs on Dave's hand in hers and soon, they're out the door and back in the rain.

Kurt stands alone in his entryway for a long, long time. He wonders what possessed those two to come to him, and what gave them the courage to do so. Each other? Their feelings? And why are they suddenly so much more human in Kurt's eyes, and why does he feel suddenly so shallow in compassion? And, he wonders, where's Finn?

Because right now, he could really use a comforting brotherly hug. Or something.

But he has nothing, so he simply wraps his arms around himself and succumbs to tears that are meant to be shed by the two individuals who left, but since they seem to refuse to give in to too much self-pity, Kurt cries in their place.


	3. Part 3 of 4

**A/N: I like to think that if Brittana ever officially happened, Artie and Mercedes would get together or something. Admittedly, I like Merzimio a lot, but Artcedes is cute, too, since I'm pretty sure Mike and Tina are going to stay together and Tina won't pull a Quinn any time soon. Anyway, here's this, the third drabble. There is only four, so we're almost done. ;D**

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"…Santana?" comes Brittany's quiet voice, and she enters the empty choir room. It's dark, and only the setting sun filtering in through the windows. "Everybody's gone home already. Like, hours ago. And… and if we don't leave soon, we might meet the school's ghost, and I really don't want to meet a ghost. Haunted places creep me out."

"There's no fucking ghost, Britt," Santana scoffs, and she sniffles. She hadn't been crying, but it's almost a Pavlov thing, that operant conditioning training Santana to feel like crying every time Brittany is around. Santana's heart clenches in her chest. She inwardly wishes that Dave were here. He always makes her feel better, because he's hurting just as much; after all, the guy he loves hates him, and that's just as bad as loving someone who's in love with someone else.

"Oh. Then who was wailing?"

"I might have been for all I know," Santana retorts snappily. She stands up and dusts her skirt of any dust from the floor. She then brushes past the blonde, aiming to leave.

"Santana, wait! We can walk to our cars together like we used to do…" Brittany begins, but Santana stiffens. She spins on her heel and faces the blonde, and Brittany stops dead, looking taken aback. And all because of the scary face Santana has on. Brittany has never seen a face that scary before.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? You already broke my heart, you bitch! Why can't you just leave me be so that I can heal…?" And she's shattering all over again, the tears coming up and spilling out. She hates being such a crybaby; she sobs when she's upset about _anything, _and it's only amplified when she's drunk. She hates it.

"Santana, please… Please stop being mad at me. I told you the truth, but you're mad at me. I don't like it when you're mad at me. You've been the only real friend I've ever had, and I don't want to lose you," Brittany relays truthfully as she steps closer and takes Santana's hands in hers. Santana's hands are oddly cold, and they feel limp, as if she didn't have any strength. She offers a small smile. "Come on, Santana… sing something. It'll make you feel better."

The brunette shakes her head mutely. The only song on her mind is 'Near To You' by A Fine Frenzy. She could sing it perfectly if she weren't crying and if the lyrics didn't apply so much to her. She pulls out of her best friend's grasp and seems to fold in on herself as she hunches over where she stands, her hands flying to her chest.

"Stop it, Brittany! Just… stop," she murmurs, and she turns and runs, but Brittany – lost, hurt, unsure – dashes after her.

"Santana! Sany, please! _Wait_!"

Kurt knows. Finn seems to know something, too, after the looks he kept sending today. And Dave was humming 'Hey Jude' to himself earlier, and it felt almost cruel the way things keep revolving around the sorrow in Santana's life. She only wants it all to _end._

Brittany catches up to Santana as the brunette runs out of steam and slows near the end of the hallway. In the adjacent hallway, a janitor with headphones in mops a floor. He doesn't pay them any mind, doesn't notice or care as Brittany clings to Santana, turns her around, and kisses her full on the mouth.

"Sany, I never want to stop being your friend. I don't like it when you run away from me. And most of all, I miss your sweet lady kisses. So… stop being sad, okay? I love you, I do. And… Artie knows. He told me just today that I better fix things with you because he can see how much I mean to you, and he knows that you mean a lot to me, too. He told me that he loves me but that I'm a birdie that needs to fly or something, and that he has to let me go. It sounded like of like a movie to me, but it made sense. So you'll be okay now, right?" Brittany says in a rush, her blue eyes crystallizing with tears and her voice wavering in its soft volumes as she laces her fingers in between Santana's.

That's the most sentimental, coherent thing Brittany has ever said.

Santana sniffs and smiles oddly. "Yeah. Yeah, I can be all right now. Thank you, Brittany. And I might have to thank Artie, too, that stupid, amazing nerd."

Brittany giggles and taps under Santana's chin. "There's the Sany I know. Now, um. Can we walk back to our cars together? I always get lost when I try to find mine."

"But Britt, there should only be, like, two cars left in the student parking lot: yours and mine."

"…I'll still get lost."

"Fine, I'll help you, then. Come on," she says, and she offers her elbow, of which Brittany links with hers. As they walk, Brittany rests her head on Santana's shoulder, and she feels like everything should be all right.

Now, if only Santana could find a way to fix poor Dave Karofsky.…


	4. Part 4 of 4

"Please, Kurt. I hate seeing him so unhappy when I finally have what I want, even if I'm still secretive about it. Can't you give him a chance? He's not a bad guy once you get to know him outside of school! I'd know. I'm, like, his new best friend," Santana bitches at Kurt on the other end of his cell phone.

Kurt seethes, sighing exasperatingly. "Santana. Do the words 'bully' and 'threatened life' mean nothing to you? I have moral standards, and one of them involves staying away from people who have hurt me in the past. It's sweet what you two did when we you over to my house and told me the truth about yourselves, and I appreciate the sentiment as well as the truth, but you have to understand –"

"Bullshit! I'm calling you out on your bullshit, Kurt. Look, Brittany has hurt me. No physically like Dave did to you, but she broke my heart. I was aching for a few weeks. But she made it up to me. And if you just let Dave make it up to you, things would be a lot better! Especially if you ever planned on coming back to McKinley since, like, everyone misses you. I dunno. Not me. I could care less. But people like Berry and Mercedes and Finn? They miss you. So if you want things to be better –"

"Please, Santana. I can't deal with this. The last thing I want is a lustful closeted gay-jock-bully as my boyfriend. He can find happiness without me. I'm just a phase to him, I'm sure; he'll get over me in due time, and then he can form a real romance with some guy in the future, like you've found with Brittany. But until then…" he hints, and he hopes she really gets it.

Santana makes a disgusted, disappointed sound. "Fine, be that way. But you're missing out, Kurt; if he's this sweet to me when he and I are only friends, imagine how he'd be to a lover. He'd be like Darcy from _Pride and Prejudice_, I bet. A sweet-hearted asshole." And she hangs up.

Damn her. How did she know how much Kurt loves _Pride and Prejudice?_ And how dare she use it against him, trying to make it out to be like he would be the perfect match with Karofsky? In Kurt's head, it's more like a twisted version of _Beauty and the Beast _in which the Beast remains a beast. Or, worse yet, it feels like Jafar and Jasmine from Disney's _Aladdin, _although minus the pedophilia. Still, the creepiness was there. The guy stole from him! Both a kiss and a wedding cake topper! How can he just forgive and forget, and lower his pride?

Furrowing his brows, Kurt ignores it and tries to move onto his homework. But it's proving to be difficult when Karofsky keeps flashing across his mind. Finally, reluctantly, he calls Santana back about an hour and a half after she hung up on him.

"Yes, Hummel?" she answers with false sweetness.

"Give me his number, you annoying floozy," Kurt mutters, and there's something like cocky triumph in her voice when she answers immediately with the digits. As soon as she's done, Kurt's grunting a "Goodbye," and hanging up the phone.

He stares at his iPhone for a long, long time before adding Karofsky's number – scribbled onto the corner of his history homework – and saves it for another time. He's too frustrated right now to call the lummox. But he will get to it… as soon as he has the time and energy to deal with that.

XXX

"Hello? Who is this? Your number's unfamiliar," Dave answers his cell one evening. "…Hello?"

"Sorry. You just sound a lot less intimidating over the phone, and it caught me off-guard," replies a voice, and Dave freezes as soon as he recognizes it.

Jokingly (to disguise his nerves and keep from laughing), Dave answers with a smile, "And you sound a lot manlier. What, did your balls finally drop, Hummel?"

"Insulting me will only succeed in me hanging up on you. And I think you want to hear the decision I've come to," Kurt answers icily, but an offer is there, and Dave immediately jumps at the chance to take it.

"Right, you're right. I'm sorry. What did you want to talk about?"

"Glee Club. If you join Glee and go with them to Nationals, and if you _sing, _and I hear that you have a decent voice, then I'll give you a chance. I'll date you. But I need to know that whoever I'm deciding to date has at least half the talent that I do, or else all dreams of singing duets with that person will be dashed," Kurt says, giving what they both know is a lame, half-baked excuse loaded with hidden meaning.

But a chance is a chance is a chance, and Dave eagerly takes it and gobbles it right up like a starving man. "Okay. Yeah, sure, okay. I can do that. I can definitely do that for you, Kurt," Dave says with a grin, and he idly wonders to himself if Santana had anything to do with this. He asks about it. "Wait… Did Santana put you up to this?"

"Yes, she mentioned it. But the decision is entirely mine. Now then, I'm going to go. I hope to see you at Nationals, Karofsky." And the line goes dead. Dave sets down his phone.

He then proceeds to grin like an idiot, because after all this struggle and patience and behavior modifications, it's finally all paying off.

He'll make sure to scoop Santana up and give her a big kiss on the cheek the next time he sees her. He has her to thank for all of this.

**FINITE.**


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